


The one where *I* am an asshole

by ParadoxInsanity



Series: Titans 2018 [6]
Category: Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: 1000th fic on the fandom tag wooo, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Relationships, Character Death, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Not Okay, Gen, I'll choose later, Maybe - Freeform, because he's sick, he's trying though, ill tag later, tags to be updated, you can help me choose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28451325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadoxInsanity/pseuds/ParadoxInsanity
Summary: Dick opened his mouth then shut it again. And did it again. And again. “Actually, that might be a good idea.”Bruce nodded and turned to the kettle so the water would boil.“Why— what brings you here today?”“There’s something I need to tell you. Well, I don't need to, per se but I probably should because it’s kinda big, even if it won’t really affect you but you should probably know because the press will be after you against it and and and—” he cut himself off. “This was a bad idea, I’ll get out of your house.” The reference back to his own words felt like little daggers plunging into his heart.He moved to get up but Bruce gently pushed him back down. “Hey, Dick, come on. Tell me what’s up.”Dick took a deep breath and steeled his resolve.“I’m dying”
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Series: Titans 2018 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972216
Comments: 19
Kudos: 53





	The one where *I* am an asshole

**Author's Note:**

> Am I cruel? Absolutely.

Bruce stomped into his study and slammed the door shut. The board of directors had voted to accept a joint venture proposal with LexCorp and he was _not_ happy.

Then he stopped short. Dick was sitting in the chair opposite his, back ramrod straight.

That made absolutely no sense, they hadn’t even spoken in _months_.

Dick was tense, obviously worried and nervous about something.

“Dick?”

“Uh hey… Bruce.”

“It’s been a while.”

“Yeah. It— it has.”

“How rude of me, would you like some tea?” Bruce hated how they had to dance around each other, trying not to step on the other’s toes while balancing four teapots on their head while they ground was eggshells and they couldn’t afford to burn any more bridges until the eggs hatched. ( **It’s too a.m. I can’t brain anymore.** )

Dick opened his mouth then shut it again. And did it again. And again. “Actually, that might be a good idea.”

Bruce nodded and turned to the kettle so the water would boil.

“Why— what brings you here today?”

“There’s something I need to tell you. Well, I don't _need_ to, per se but I probably should because it’s kinda big, even if it won’t really affect you but you should probably know because the press will be after you against it and and and—” he cut himself off. “This was a bad idea, I’ll get out of your house.” The reference back to his own words felt like little daggers plunging into his heart.

He moved to get up but Bruce gently pushed him back down. “Hey, Dick, come on. Tell me what’s up.”

Dick took a deep breath and steeled his resolve.

“I’m dying”

And Bruce Wayne’s heart, as well as Batman’s cold, dead heart, shattered.

——————————————————

“No. No, there’s got to be a mix up. What did they say is the problem? I’ll get Lucius on it to get a— a cure. No wait, you need to get checked up by some of my docs. The best money can buy. Don’t worry, Dick. I’ll fix this.”

He got up and pulled out his WayneTech tablet and started to leave the room, presumably to got to HQ when Dick calmly grabbed his coat sleeve. He got up, looked into Bruce’s terrified and panicky eyes and said in the most calm manner possible.

**“Bruce, Bruce you don’t get it. I. Am. _Dying_.”**

Bruce took Dick’s much more slender hand into his heavily scarred and calloused ones.“I can fix it, Dick. Please. _I can’t lose you._ ”

“That didn’t bother you when you kicked me out, fired me and gave another kid the name my mother gave me.”

Bruce was at a loss for words. He had never addressed the issue, always puting it off.

“I heard from _Vicki Vale_ of all people.”

“Dick, I’m sorry, I meant to tell you but th—”

He was silenced by Dick holding up a hand, “I don’t care, B. Please show me enough respect to not offer me any excuses.”

“I really am sorry, Dick.”

“Now you’re saying that because I told you what’s up.”

“You didn’t… Tell me what’s up, I mean.”

“I’m sorry. What?”

“You just stated that you’re dying, Dick.” Bruce tried to move emotions to the trash can. “You didn’t tell me what or why or when or any specifics.”

“I’m an adult, Bruce. I am entitled to doctor patient confidence.”

“Dick…” Dam, Bruce isn’t **as** good **as me** at deleting emotions. “Can I— may I hug you?” ( **Can’t stress this enough, always ask for permission. Hugs, kisses, _activities_ , anything. Always. Ask. For. Permission.**)

Dick nodded, looking the very picture of resignation and done-ness as Bruce wrapped his arms around the slim, wiry frame of the young acrobat that had brought life back to the manor.

He kissed the top of Dick’s head and murmured, “I want to keep you safe, Dick.”

“Fatal Familial Insomnia.”

“What?”

“Fatal Familial Insomnia. It’s what I have. I think it’s because of the electrum in my blood that was never activated by the Court of Owls.” ( **Disease is real kids, origins aren’t. It’s hereditary and it’s very rare, only about 40 families globally have the mutated protein that causes it.** )

“So if we activate it…”

“No. We can’t. The process would kill me much more painfully, or I would be forced into becoming a Talon. Not the relatively safe way. Let it be, Bruce. This is one thing you can’t fix.”

“So this is it? You just came by to tell me that— that you’re going to leave us and then expect me to not even try to prevent it, Dick?”

“This isn’t it, Bruce. Robin will still live on, no? A legacy, just like the Bat.”

“…what do you mean?”

“I never wanted Robin to become a legacy, but since you couldn’t care enough to respect that, I’m here to meet the kid that is using my mother’s name.”

“B! I’m home!!” Jason’s voice rang out.

“Good to see that Gotham Academy’s timings still haven’t changed.”

Jason burst into the room. “Bruce, are you ready to— _Dick Grayson?!_ ”

“The one and only.” Dick stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Hey kid.”

“Wh— why are you here?”

“Figured I should meet the new… Robin.”

“No way! You have to teach me everything you know!”

“Uh, what do you want to know?”

“Everything!” And Dick was promptly dragged out of the study towards the (Wayne) gym.

Bruce was left to question his existence once again.

“I suppose you have heard the ‘news’, Master Bruce.”

“Yea— Yeah. What do I do now, Alfred?”

“Respect Master Dick’s wishes, ob _viously_.”

Bruce had been trained to read between Alfred’s lines for long enough.

——————————

“Can you really do a quadruple flip?”

“Quadruple? Kid, that’s old news. I’ve upgraded since I was 9.”

“You can do a pentiple?!”

“Yeah.” Dick didn’t nearly match Jason’s enthusiasm.

“Can you (👉👈 **)** maybe, show me?”

“Yeah, sure. Lemme warm up a bit first.”

——————————

Okay, tl;dw

Dick showed Jason the pentiple flip, flew him a little taught him some basic landing techniques that bruce had never managed to pick up.

We get to the point that Dick has packed up his stuff and is leaving the gym,

——————————

“Will you visit again soon?” He tried to sound nonchalant but his sparkling eyes gave him away. ( **Please note- I don't understand how that works. Eyes cannot communicate. Unless you count dilation and contraction of pupils but that’s minimal and for a variety of reasons. I just write it for the sake of it** )

“Maybe, I don't know.” Dick thought about it for a moment, “Probably.”

“Are you leaving right now?”

“Uh, no. Need to speak to Alfred about something.”

“Okay!”

“Catch you around, kid. Maybe we can patrol together sometime.”

Jason lit up, “Yes. Uhh—I mean, sure. That would be cool.”

Dick smiled softly, ruffling Jason’s hair and shouldering his bag.

——————————

“Hey Alf.”

“Hello, Master Richard. Did you have a good workout with Master Jason?”

“Yeah. He’s a good kid.”

“Is something on your mind, Master Richard? You seem pensive. Thoughtful.”

Dick laughed mirthlessly, “You always knew us better than we did, Alfie.”

Alfred gave him a look.

“Fineee. I have a couple of potential leads, Alfred. But—” he looked down.

“But?” Alfred prompted.

“It’s dangerous. Like, really _really_ dangerous.”

“Forgive my bluntness, Master Richard, but if you are nearing death and there is a way to stop it…?” He trailed off.

Dick smiled sardonically, ”There are fates worse than death, Alf. I figured you knew that.”

“Indeed I do. However, you must forgive an old man for holding onto any slivers of hope he may have.”

“I’ll try my best, Alfred. I don’t want to…leave this world any more than you want me to.”

“Oh, Richard… come here.” Alfred opened his arms, eyes tearing up at the thought of losing the child (yes, he is still a child) that brought his light to the mausoleum of a manor so long ago and illuminated it in such a way it became a _home_ again.

Dick all but collapsed in his grandfather’s arms, knowing that it may very well be the last time he did so. “I don't want to die, Alfred.”

Alfred simply held him, knowing that he really couldn’t break out the shotgun or even assure the young master that everything would be okay.

“I need to go, Alf. I’ll try to keep in touch.”

——————————

As time went on, and Bruce searched for any solution, however unlikely it seemed, while Dick prepped for his own journey.

Every time Batman saw Nightwing, he seemed more and more exhausted, dark circles under his eyes growing more and more pronounced by the day.

Soon, it was clear in the footage and pictures of Nightwing and the media began asking why their beloved hero had stopped his quips and flips, instead utilising a much more grounded fighting style. Some reporter even thought it was a different guy altogether.

He wasn’t wrong, in a manner of speaking. Flying, flips and smart comments were a part of who Nightwing was, and if he didn’t have enough energy to do that?

Well, things weren’t looking up.

Not to say that Bruce wasn’t trying. He was, truly, but he didn’t have much to go off on.

“What if you used—?”

“No.”

“You don't even know what I’m going to say!”

“You were saying I should try and use sleeping pills.”

“…”

“It would make things worse. I’d get some rest, yes, but would sacrifice someof the time I have left.”

“… back to the drawing board.”

“Bruce, please tell me that you didn’t actually get a drawing board for this.”

“…”

“Bruce?”

“…”

“BRUCE!”

Bruce wouldn’t admit it, but he was losing hope, none of his theories were working out, and Dick was… cagey at best when it came to sharing his thoughts and plans.

Bruce wanted to help, but he didn’t know _how_. And it was frustrating, for _Batman_ to not know.

That night, on a whim, he visited Dick’s old room, and apparently, Dick was doing the same thing.

“I want Jason to continue training with the Titans, Bruce.”

“Why? We’ve been working here.”

“He’s worked out a training routine and plan set up over there. I want to him to train to be the leader of the Titans in my absence.”

“You— you said you still have time.” _Is this goodbye?_

Dick wrapped him in a hug.

“I have some time left.” _No, it’s not goodbye. Yet._

“I still have a card up my sleeve to play.”

**Author's Note:**

> What do you guys think I should do?
> 
> Kill Dick?  
> Talonise him?  
> Miraculous recovery?  
> Leave it at that?  
> Something else?
> 
> I have a lot of ideas for different situations and can't pick
> 
> This is the 1000th fic on the Titans (TV 2018) fandom tag wooohoooo  
> Also my last work for 2020
> 
> Happy new year suckers


End file.
